Minute Maid
by highhorses
Summary: Orange juice and Swan-Mills fluff. One Shot.


I decided to write something short and quick, I hope you guys enjoy it. It's a random piece, just a moment in the Swan-Mills household. It is AU; Henry is a toddler, not a 10 year old. Feel free to review and blame all mistakes on me! This is my second fic!

P.S. _I don't own the characters, nor do I own OUAT. Common disclaimer._

* * *

**Shit.**

"Lang- what the hell are you doing?"

Emma's sweatpants were soaked with orange juice, eyes widening just a little as some of it dribbled onto Regina's pristine carpet.

_Oh God_

Henry slid from his blonde mother's lap, little legs moving at an insane pace across the room and into Regina's arms.

_Traitor_

"Listen, before you go yelling at me... it was Henry's fault."

"Wow, Emma Swan, stooping so low as to blame a child for your mistakes. Your own child might I add." Henry was too preoccupied with the thumb in his mouth to defend his honor. Regina knew that she looked imposing; Toddler resting on her hip, eyes blazing.

"You look beautiful today. Simply divine." Yes, she was trying to avoid an early grave, but she also really meant it. She loved morning Regina. Hair in a messy ponytail, one of Emma's old t-shirts, yoga pants. There wasn't a moment when she didn't find Regina to be the fairest of them all, no matter the cliche.

Emma was still sitting on the couch, oddly calm, as if she wasn't living the last moments of her life. There were crumbs on her face from breakfast, something Regina would have found endearing if not slightly childlike, had she not been pissed beyond return.

"Mama." Henry whined, his chubby fingers gripped tight around the collar of Regina's shirt, burying his face into her neck.

_Poor Henry, he knows this is the end. Good call kid. Shield your eyes._

Regina softens under his touch, though her relentless eyes are still focused on Emma, who's fear is finally starting to show. Her fingers drum incessantly on her knees and suddenly, "Yo Gabba Gabba" starts to look really, **REALLY** interesting. Henry agrees also, wriggling in Regina's arms to get a better view. Even at 2 years old, he knows to always side with the winning team.

"Care to explain why my living room looks like it has been hit by a tornado?" Regina growls. Toys are everywhere, pillows from the couch are piled on the floor like a fortress, along with a plate and Henry's bowl.

Emma doesn't answer.

"Emma"

Her eyes slide over to Regina, full of regret and silent apologies. A bottom lip is two seconds from relaxing into a pout, but Regina shakes her head vigorously.

"No. Being cute doesn't get you out of this."

"You think I'm cute?" Emma asks, gazing from underneath her eyelashes.

Regina's eyebrow lifts into a sharp point, causing Emma to inhale sharply in both fear and arousal.

"**Don't** make me ask again."

Sighing, Emma gets up from the couch, wincing as she feels more of the juice puddle around her. "Henry wanted juice, I put it in his sippy cup. I just... didn't make sure that the lid was on tight so when he tilted back to drink it, everything went to hell."

Regina was happy when Henry uttered his first word, "geddy," short for "spaghetti," and not one of Emma's oh so colorful adjectives.

"I'm sorry. I'll clean everything up, it'll look like it never happened." Emma's moving closer, and Regina can see that her window of control is closing. Quickly.

"Aren't I sorry Henry?" His attention is now back on his blonde mother who looks like she's about to burst into tears, though he doesn't necessarily notice that. He just knows that she smells like orange juice.

"Juice." he says with a floppy grin, all but melting Regina's resolve.

"See," Emma whispers, stepping into Regina's space, "Henry agrees."

"He's 2." She tries to keep her voice strong and steady, but Emma's hand on her hip is clouding her judgement. Emma's waggling her eyebrows, nudging Regina closer.

"Stop," Regina breathes.

"Stop what?"

"Moving your damn eyebrows like that."

Emma gasps, fawning shock. "Regina. **LANGUAGE**."

Henry's unoccupied hand makes it around the top of Emma's gray thermal, pulling her closer. _Probably because I smell like orange juice._  
Nonetheless, Emma takes it as an excuse to rest her forehead against Regina's; the latter's breath hitching at the other's proximity.

"Regina Swan-Mills, will you please forgive me? I'm sorry for being a messy wife. But I **DID** put it in the disclaimer when I proposed. Just saying," Emma finishes with a shrug.  
The corner of Regina's mouth twitches upward, causing Emma to smile in return, happy that the tension is subsiding. She leans forward intent on kissing her, when Regina swiftly turns on her heel, leaving Emma to stumble forward a bit in surprise.

"Well get to it Swan!" Regina calls over her shoulder as Henry waves amicably. Emma is barely able to recover before a towel is thrown her way, smacking her squarely in the face.

"I don't hear cleaning!" Regina sing-songs.

"Yeah yeah, I'm on it," Emma grumbles, surveying the extent of chaos.

_Definitely won't be getting laid tonight._


End file.
